Pansmione Oneshots
by Pigolion
Summary: Not a very creative title, I know, but I just wanted a place to put all my little Pansmione drabbles. I'll add tags as I add on new stories. Sorry I wait so long between updates! Please don't abandon me
1. Fleeting Kisses and Terse Goodbyes

"Write me over the summer, okay?"

With the high energy buzz of the last day of term, students saying loud goodbyes and preparing their luggage was a good enough cover for Hermione and Pansy to sneak away for one last quiet rendezvous. Now, Hermione pressed a piece of parchment with her postal address into Pansy's hand. She tried not to study Pansy's face too carefully, searching for signs of disgust on her face as she read the muggle address.

"Right," Pansy replied, folding the paper and sticking it into her pocket. "I'll send one of our owls-"

"Oh, no." Hermione interrupted. "My parents aren't comfortable with owls."

Pansy's expression slid from surprised to annoyed to confused. "Don't...like owls? Then how do you get mail?"

"You really don't know?" Hermione asked, trying not to laugh. Pansy's lips tightened slightly. She hated being talked down to. "You have, well, a postal address. You write that on the outside of the letter. Then a person who works for the post office comes to take the letter from your house and deliver it to the address."

"Someone comes to your _house_?"

"Well, probably not wizard houses, no. You'll have to go to a muggle post office-" Pansy made a noise between annoyance and uncertainty and Hermione trailed off. "Can you... not do that?"

"My parents will get suspicious." Pansy said more quietly, looking at the ground. "If I go to a muggle post office, obviously."

"Right." Hermione said. She tried to let her disappointment not show in her voice. It wasn't Pansy's fault that her parents were bigots. It wasn't Pansy's fault that their relationship had to stay secret, though that was more of a decision that both of them made. Though Hermione doubted that her friends would have a problem with her seeing a girl, Pansy's status as a Slytherin and pure blood might cause a rift. She already felt isolated enough sometimes, and...well, it was easier to just keep some things secret.

"Can't you just... hide the owls from your parents?" asked Pansy suddenly. "Or, I could only send you letters at night."

Hermione shook her head, biting her lip. "I don't think so, sorry." she said quickly. "They're bound to notice the feathers and hooting, and I don't want to annoy them anymore after they've been so fine with everything else."

Pansy sighed with frustration. "Well, I guess this is goodbye then."

"I suppose so. Until start of next term."

"Right." Pansy moved hesitantly towards Hermione, closing the space between them significantly. Hermione got the hint and leaned forward to let their lips meet. Pansy's lips felt soft and round, and she could smell the perfumed red lipstick she had applied that morning. As she wondered to herself whether any was being smeared onto herself, she felt Pansy's arms wrap around behind her and squeeze her in a light hug before they broke apart.

"Well, I'd better get ba-" Pansy trailed off as her eyes widened, staring at the space above Hermione's shoulder. Hermione turned around herself to see Neville Longbottom staring at the pair of them, mouth open and eyes as round as Galleons.

"Neville!" Hermione cried, her voice suddenly several pitches higher than it normally was. "That- you didn't-what-what exactly did you see?"

The sound of running footsteps indicated to Hermione that Pansy was probably long gone by now, eager to separate herself from any evidence of her relationship to Hermione Granger. She couldn't really blame here, if Draco Malfoy or another Slytherin had come across the two sharing an intimate moment Hermione would have probably also left as quickly as possible.

"You were...kissing her." Neville said, struggling to regain his composure. "Hermione, is Pansy Parkinson your _girlfriend?"_

"Yes. No! I don't know. It's, well, we're just figuring things out right now." Hermione pushed her bushy hair back and let out a huff, trying to regain focus on the matter at hand. "But that's not important. Neville, please, you can't tell anyone."

Neville took a step back, sensing her sudden aggression. "Why? Why are you dating Pansy Parkinson, of all people? She's a Slytherin! And a pureblood! And, well, a girl."

"Yeah." said Hermione quietly. Neville's eyes narrowed. "Did-did she threaten you?" he asked softly.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "No, I just, I like talking to her! She doesn't mock me, when I want to talk about our lessons or magic principle or... anything like that! And she likes me too, at least I think so, and maybe her parents are bigots and she kind of is too, but it's not her fault she was brainwashed into thinking certain wizards are superior and houselves _like _doing their jobs and maybe people change! And maybe I like her even though she's got a lot of problems and our relationship doesn't make sense and I can't _believe_ I'm telling you all this, oh god, Neville, please, please promise you won't tell anyone about this!"

Her monologue left her panting for breath, struggling to not cry on top of everything else.

"I won't tell anyone" said Neville quickly. "I promise." He opened his mouth as if to say something else, then seemed to change his mind and clamped it shut once more. As he turned to walk away, he gave an awkward half smile, maybe in an attempt to cheer her up as he picked up his luggage and headed for the trains.

"Thank you," she breathed out to his retreating form.


	2. The Price of Secrecy

"Hold still."

"How can I? You're about to stab me in the eye with that thing!"

"I won't, if you just hold still!"

Hermione let out a huff, but acquiesced to Pansy's request. Smirking with satisfaction, Pansy carefully drew over Hermione's eyelids with her pencil eyeliner. When she was finished perfecting the winged look, she scooted away and handed Hermione a small mirror.

"Okay, you can look now."

Hermione scrutinized her 'makeover', raising an eyebrow at the extent Pansy had gone to despite her protests. She had never worn makeup before, not even at the Yule Ball last year, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. It would always be too much effort to put on herself.

"Well?" Pansy asked, shoving her supplies back into her bag and waiting for Hermione's reaction.

"You did a good job." Hermione said. "You actually made me look pretty."

"Oh, shut up, Granger. You _are_ pretty."

"Not according to you, two years ago." Hermione stated dryly. Pansy looked at her hands, suitably chagrined. "I'm... not good at dealing with unrequited crushes." she said somewhat quietly. Then she grinned. "But I'm sure you know that." Hermione returned her grin, reaching out to lay her hand on Pansy's. "It wasn't exactly unrequited. But I'm sure you know that." she said, mimicking Pansy's embarrassment.

As they held hands, both girls cast a quick glance around the mostly empty pub just to make sure nobody they knew was inside. They had specifically chosen the Hog's Head to have their meeting because most students of Hogwarts avoided it particularly, besides, perhaps the more rebellious students when they wanted to try a stronger beverage than butterbeer and needed an apathetic bartender to supply it. Despite the fact that the only other patrons of the bar was a masked witch sitting at the counter, nose deep in a very long scroll and a hooded figure sitting near the door, Pansy and Hermione released each other's almost as quickly as they had allowed themselves the rare intimacy in the first place.

"Anyway, you know the deal. I let you do my makeup, you showed me the book."

Pansy rolled her eyes, reaching into her bag to retrieve the leather bound tome. "I never should have told you about this thing, you're obsessed." In their last Ancient Runes class, Pansy had mentioned the ancient book her family possessed, which she was using to study for the Rune OWLS.

"I need any extra material I can to do well on the OWL's." Hermione replied, briskly flipping through the pages. "Besides, ancient wizard artifacts are _fascinating_."

"Maybe if you're muggleborn." commented Pansy absently, stirring her drink. Hermione chanced a look at her, lips pursed. Pansy felt herself redden. "I swear, I didn't mean that in a judgemental way."

Hermione's eyes returned to the yellowed pages. "Besides," Pansy continued, trying to skate over the sticky moment. "Everyone knows you're already the best student in all your classes." There was some bitterness in her voice as she reflected on this, it was _well_ known in the pureblood community that the best student at Hogwarts was, horrors upon horrors, a muggle born student. Pansy, along with her pureblood peers, was often shamed for this simple fact. Pansy herself hadn't really recognized the hypocrisy in her own views until Hermione had forced her to recognize that she didn't have any more intelligence or magical skill than the muggle born sitting across from her, but it was still sometimes hard to accept.

Hermione hummed slightly to herself, admiring the metallic ink that had been used to write out the translations. The book itself was at least three times as thick as their textbook, and several times more fancy. As she traced a finger down the spine, she marveled age of the leather and pages themselves. She tried to push down her resentment of the major advantage Pansy had in her private library.

"Can't you read that thing later?" Pansy asked, interrupting her train of thought. "You've hardly even touched your butterbeer." Hermione made a face as she glanced at the dusty bottle. "That thing's probably been aging for years."

Pansy shrugged, taking a sip of her own drink. "That's the price to pay for secrecy, I suppose."

Hermione rolled her eyes and returned to the book. Pansy aimed a light kick at her under the table. "I swear to _god_, Granger, unless you actually look up from that musty old book and enjoy your time with your beautiful _girlfriend_ I will rip that thing to pieces." Pansy said, leaning forward threateningly. Hermione laughed, heat rising to her cheeks as she carefully slid the book aside. "Alright, alright! No need to get violent." she agreed, silently marveling at the fact that Pansy had just called herself Hermione's girlfriend.


	3. Alcoves and Knitting

"Are you sure they'll take them?"

Hermione looked up from the hat she was knitting with an exasperated sigh. This was the fifth question Pansy had asked in the short time they had been knitting together. In her defense, she was actually participating in making hats, which is more than Hermione could say for Ron, Harry, and Neville, the other so called members of "Society of the Promotion of Elfish Welfare", otherwise known as "SPEW". She still wasn't entirely sure if Pansy's interest in the subject was purely for her benefit or not. The Parkinson's owned house-elves, like most well to do pureblood families. She had gone from trying to overlook this fact to routinely trying to convince Pansy to free her own elves at the nearest opportunity. Pansy did tend to be less eager to discuss house elf rights whenever Hermione took that route.

"What did you say?" asked Hermione. Pansy set her needles down with an audible _click_ as she looked at Hermione.

"I said, are you sure they'll actually take them? I've left clothes in the common room before, and it's always been returned to my trunk or bed. They might just return them."

"Well," Hermione replied, trying to push this uncomfortable thought from her mind, "I've left clothes before, and they've always been taken. I just hope that means that the elves who did realize that they're free now, though of course we can't know for sure."

Pansy nodded as if in agreement, but the corners of her mouth twitched down slightly. "What?" Hermione snapped, a bit more harshly than she intended.

"I mean, they might think it's a punishment." Pansy let out, biting her lip as she chose her next words carefully. "It's their job. They'll get offended if they're just suddenly sacked, they'll think they did something wrong."

"It's not a job!" Hermione protested. "A job is paid. This is slavery! And yes, maybe they won't want to accept it at first, but once they're free they'll realize that it's for the best." She ended her short tirade with a huff, throwing her frustrations into her knitting. It seemed like no one in the Wizarding world, even other muggleborns, didn't understand. The way wizards treated house elves was _sick_. Why couldn't they just open their eyes to the atrocities Hermione saw?

Hermione looked up to see that Pansy had shrunk somewhat in her corner of the alcove, now knitting fairly close to her chest. She felt a familiar sinking feeling of guilt settle into her stomach. Though she didn't know much about Pansy's childhood, it wasn't exactly easy to ignore that the girl became especially withdrawn to any yelling or sudden movements. Hermione returned her attention to her hat, trying to pretend the awkward moment hadn't occurred.

"...What is that?" Hermione asked suddenly, distracted by the object in Pansy's hands. The lumpy object seemed too small and strangely shaped to pass as a hat, though that might have been the intent. Hermione pulled the wool from the other girl and held it up to the light. "Is this-"

"A bowler hat." Pansy interrupted. Indeed, as Hermione turned the object, she recognized the familiar shape that frequently adorned the current Minister of Magic's head. It was a wool bowler hat, somewhat small in size, slightly misshapen with two holes for elf ears to poke out of.

"Oh."

Pansy took her bowler hat back and continued knitting the outer rim. Hermione cleared her throat. "Er, why exactly are you making a bowler hat?"

Without looking up, Pansy shrugged as a slight smile came to her face. "Dunno. It's more fashionable than just another stocking cap. Thought they would like a little bit of variety, especially if they've got any sense of fashion."

Hermione let this sink in, then swiftly moved forward to sit next to Pansy in her corner of the alcove. Pansy snuggled closer to Hermione as the girl settled herself against the wall, letting go of one needle to wrap her arm around Hermione's shoulder. Hermione rested her head against Pansy's shoulder, beaming all the while. Though she would soon return to the Gryffindor common room to face the real world again, with all it's secrets and guilt, right now there seemed that she could not find any greater pleasure in anything but a small woolen bowler hat, slightly misshapen, with holes cut out for a house elves' ears.


	4. Snowy Mishaps

"Are you sure about this?" Hermione asked for the fourth time. Pansy huffed petulantly. "Yes, I'm sure, Granger! Now stop whining and hop on before I leave without you!"

They were standing at the top of one of the tallest hills on the Hogwarts Grounds, holding what Hermione was pretty sure was a desk Pansy had duplicated and torn the legs off of. At the bottom of the hill lay an arrangement of unforgiving rocks. If they happened to miss said rocks, they may careen into the now frozen over lake with enough force to break through the ice and drown them both. If they avoided the both threats, Pansy insisted, they would come to a soft stop in the powdery snow, with all limbs still intact and minimal damage. Needless to say, Hermione disagreed.

She sighed. "Maybe we should send the, er, 'sled' down empty at first, and if it goes the way you said, maybe I'll consider it, but as it is-"

"'Mione!" Pansy exclaimed, scowling. She crossed her arms. "Where's the spirit of the girl who punched Draco Malfoy in the face?"

Hermione froze. "You- how do you know about that?"

Pansy smirked slightly. "I have my sources. And those sources are Vincent and Goyle bringing it up whenever he gets too big for his britches. Which is often."

Hermione tutted, shaking her head slightly. She and her friends didn't speak of said incident very much, and she had assumed that Draco had forbidden his friends of mentioning it all. She had never imagined the urban legend her punch had become between Slytherin's and Gryffindor's alike.

"Alright, fine." she finally conceded. "Against all better judgement, fine." She slid onto the sled and wrapped her arms around Pansy's waist, arranging herself so they were both securely attached to each other. The tip of her nose just barely grazed the other girl's silky black hair, tucked neatly under a pink winter cap. Even under the multiple layers she had packed herself into due to the cold weather, Pansy's familiar perfume was still clear. Leaning forward slightly more, she pressed her face into Pansy's back and took a deeper inhale.

"Alright, weirdo." Pansy chastened teasingly. "Let's go."

Blushing, Hermione charmed the sled to slide forward, cutting through the snow like a knife through butter. As they picked up speed, Hermione vaguely heard Pansy's shout of delight through her fear. The wind pricked Hermione's face and she shivered, pulling her scarf onto her face with one hand, clinging desperately to Pansy with the other.

About one quarter of the way down the hill, the sled decided that it didn't like Pansy's chosen destination and turned itself horizontally, almost jostling both girls off.

Hermione cried out in terror and clung harder to Pansy's waist. Pansy, for her credit, reacted much more quickly and pulled her wand from the depths of her coat to right their course. The spell didn't do much, instead knocking the sled from it's former position to a different, more dangerous one. Now they were directly in the path of a large tree, gliding closer every second.

"_Get us out of here!_" Hermione shrieked, trying to grab for her own wand, which unfortunately tangled in her scarf as she tried to yank it out.

"Shi-" Pansy started, but was interrupted as their makeshift sled careened into the trunk of the tree and, predictably, smashed in two. Luckily for the girls, they both remained on one half of the table. Unfortunately, that half was now sailing through the air, leaving the passengers at the mercy of wherever it landed.

Fueled by terror, Hermione freed her wand and shrieked "_Molliare!" _to cushion their fall.To her credit, the charm did the trick and she and Pansy both landed in the snow relatively unharmed. That much could not be said for the remains of their sled, which continued its fatal descent down the hill, leaving splintery remains as it tore itself apart, finally shattering into pieces on the jagged rocks at the base of the hill.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding in. She turned to Pansy, checking the girl for outer damage. "Are you hurt?"

Pansy let out a weak chuckle and sprawled into the snow. "Besides the piss in my knickers, you mean? Absolutely smashing." She gazed at the remains of the sled now littering the hill and altered her last statement. "Well, not _literally_ smashed."

"Good." Hermione let herself flop down in the snow next to Pansy and silently thanked whatever deity had allowed the girls to survive the crash. "Just so you know, I'm never going along with another one of your ideas again."

"That is completely fair."


	5. An Unfortunate Reconciliation

A/N: This is a bit more unreciprocated than my previous fics just so you know.

If Pansy's head sunk any lower, she'd get another scolding from Professor Flitwick for falling asleep in class, so she shook the dreariness aside and sat up straight against her hard wood backed chair. She'd be damned if she was the first one to fall asleep over a Gryffindor. To be fair, however, Ron Weasley was incredibly close to sleep, eyelids drooping steadily as Binns droned on. Pansy amused herself by wondering how long it would take Granger to give him a harsh jab in the shoulder. She suspected about four. One...two-

Pansy's mental countdown was cut off by Hermione indeed fulfilling her prophecy and suddenly jerking her elbow into Ron's side. He jerked upwards with a start and Pansy smirked slightly.

As Binns dismissed the class, Pansy could still hear the two arguing beside her as they packed up their things. She rolled her eyes and tried to block them out, but it seemed as if their volume was increasing exponentially and it was impossible to drone out their voices.

"-Fifth time I've had to wake you up all year, if you don't pay attention I'm not showing you my notes, I wonder why I always help you in class if you never even bother to try-" Hermione half whispered, half shrieked as Ron's hunched shoulders and reddened ears. If Pansy couldn't also spot his hands clenched into tight fists, she would have assumed he was just embarrassed.

"-Not my fault, it's not my fault I can't stay awake during his lectures, he just drones on, 'sides why should I bother to listen to this tosh, it's not like I'll need to know it after the OWL-"

"It's fascinating!" Hermione spat out, clenching her quill so tight that it was on the verge of snapping in half. "Who cares if you never use it, you're still learning the history of our wizarding ancestry! Don't you care at all?"

Ron hesitated, then blew out a raspberry and leaned back in his chair. Hermione's quill split neatly in half as she stuffed it into her bag and rushed out the door in a huff.

Pansy felt annoyed as well, though she couldn't quit identify why. Perhaps she felt annoyed that someone beside herself was causing Granger to turn that particular shade of red. Seized with inspiration, she stormed by the pair as they were still arguing, taking care to tread on the girl's toes as she went.

"Ah!" Hermione squealed as she ground by. Ron scowled and called after Pansy's retreating form, "Watch where you're going, Parkinson!"

Not you, Weasel. Pansy brushed his comment aside and simply pretended Granger had retorted rather than the redhead.

"Do you have a problem, Granger?" she said, a slight curve to her lips. Hermione scowled.

"Leave me alone, Pansy."

"Yeah, shove off, Parkinson." added Weasley. Pansy ground her teeth and resisted the urge to hex him just to shut him up.

"I wasn't talking to you, Weasel." Pansy responded, still not taking her eyes off Granger. Ron reddened, but stayed silent at least. Hermione, on the other hand, was cut to the quick with this little comment.

"Don't call him that!" she snapped, reaching for Ron's hand. Glaring over her shoulder at Pansy, she pulled him out of the classroom.

No. Pansy wanted to shout. No, wait, come back. Her cruel remarks had only seemed to bring them closer together, and though she felt she should be proud of Granger's anger, the sinking feeling in her stomach disagreed.


	6. An Evening of Heartache and Firewhisky

A/N: This fic has lots of mentions of alcohol, obviously, and established Drarry. I'm planning on making a part 2 eventually.

The atmosphere of the room was warm and comforting, with a merry fire crackling and Celestina Warbeck's voice warbling out of a nearby radio, but Pansy was on her fourth shot of firewhisky before she had unwound herself from her position on the couch and had started to talk to the others in the room with more than monosyllabic answers.

Draco, as he got closer to his boyfriend, had started to spend more times with his Gryffindor friends for some ungodly reason, even going as far as to invite himself to their common room on the weekends or during parties. This time, he had invited Pansy and Blaise, the latter falling ill conveniently an hour after the invitation was presented. Pansy felt a certain obligation due to her friendship with the brat, which is why she was currently seated on a scarlet couch surrounded by half a dozen drunk Gryffindors.

The only upside of the evening so far was that Draco was easily the most intoxicated of anyone in the room, and had finally stopped snogging his boyfriend to make frequent trips to the loo. Not that Pansy was jealous or anything. She had long gotten over her juvenile crush on Malfoy, but their lovey dovey behavior was another crushing reminder that Pansy was single that she would rather avoid, especially when drunk. It didn't help that Hermione Granger was seated on the couch next to her, her hand less than two inches from Pansy's. The evening was difficult enough without fighting the constant temptation to shift her fingers slightly to touch her. Not that Granger was into girls, as far as Pansy was aware. She had always assumed there was something going on between her and Potter, until the Chosen One had come out as gay and had started going out with Malfoy. Just about no one had seen that coming.

He started shagging Potter after he broke up with you. Insisted a voice in her head. Don't you think that it's your fault?

Pansy waved away the intrusive thought with a frown. The thoughts always became worse when she was drunk.

"Alright there?" said Harry from across the room.

Speak of the devil. Pansy didn't hate him as much as she thought she would after he and Draco had started going out. It helped that he was actually a pretty nice guy, especially to Draco, and seemed to have no problem with Pansy tagging along to the party unlike some of his friends. Ron Weasley in particular had been keen on giving snide comments and side glances to Draco the first few months they had been dating. Just another reason for Pansy to hate the redhead. Luckily, Ron wasn't here tonight, as he had unfortunately gained a detention with Professor Snape for talking during class. Snape's detentions ran long, so it was unlikely he would be showing up anytime soon.

Harry gave her an odd look, and Pansy realized she had been staring at him for at least a minute without responding.

"I'm fine," she responded, sitting up straighter on the couch. When Potter glanced away, she let herself flop back further into the couch and was met with a pleasant surprise. Granger had shifted slightly as well and now Pansy's right knee was making slight contact with Granger's thigh. Hermione, to her credit, didn't immediately shriek and pull her leg away. Seized by a sudden giddiness, she hastily reached forward to add more firewhisky to her glass and subsequently discovered the bottle was empty.

Shoot.

"We're out of firewhisky," she complained. As Hermione turned to look at the empty bottle, her leg slid away from Pansy's. Pansy swallowed her disappointment.

"And food!" added Longbottom.

Potter groaned and straightened himself. "Right. I'll head to the kitchens and see what I can do." He made a quick detour to his dormitory to fetch something, then headed out the common room door with a smile and a promise to be back in ten minutes.

Draco, when he finally returned from the loo, was severely disappointed that his boyfriend had gone missing, despite assurances from the others that he would be back soon.

"He just went to the kitchens to grab some food and firewhisky," Pansy explained for the fourth time as Draco laid on the floor, moping. "He said he'd be back soon."

"Harry didn't have to leave!" protested Draco. "I brought some stuff from home." He made an effort to crawl to his bag and pulled out an ancient looking bottle of sherry.

"Draco!" Pansy protested, pulling the bottle out of his hands. He had clearly had enough to drink, and Pansy had seen her own parents stumbling home drunk after a Malfoy party to know that their family didn't play around when it came to liquor. Draco mumbled threats of vengeance into the carpet as Pansy refilled everyone's glass but his.

"Cheers," offered Longbottom sleepily, and the trio clinked glasses and knocked the clearish drink back. Granger made a face as she swallowed.

"Alright there?" Pansy asked, mimicking Potter's concern. Hermione smiled and nodded, slightly off kilter. "Not really used to drinking," she explained. Pasny tried not to snort. That much was obvious.

"It doesn't show." Pansy lied.

Now Granger was the one snorting. "I'm sure," she said, gazing evenly at Pansy over her glass.

Pansy cocked a half smile. "Well, at least you're a cute drunk."

Hermione stiffened, and Pansy immediately regretted her words. Granger stared into her glass before responding.

"At least you're a cute everything." she said, only slightly slurring her words. She looked up, her cheeks only slightly darkened as she chewed on her lip nervously.

Erratic and high pitched laughter exploded out of Pansy. She bent over, barely clinging to her empty glass as she snorted. After a moment, Hermione joined in and when Pansy straightened, she was looking much redder.

"Let me refill you," suggested Pansy, with a boldness that seemed almost absurd. She reached for Granger's glass, coincidentally spooning the girl to do so. Hermione was warm, her brown skin practically radiating heat as Pansy wrapped her arms around her and rested her head on her shoulder.

Pansy couldn't believe she was in this position, actually snuggling up to Hermione Granger, and Granger, drunk as they both were, reciprocated.

_A_ _mudblood. _Insisted her inner dialogue. _No wonder she likes you._

Pansy ignored this more easily than she would have usually. She wanted to savor every moment, never mind the stupid voice in her head who insisted her parents would be ashamed of her.

Soon, she let the lull of warmth and alcohol pull her into sleep against Granger's back. Before she drifted off to sleep, she felt Hermione squeeze her hand lightly and whisper something that was lost over the buzz of conversation and Weird Sisters song issuing from the radio.


	7. The Lavender Dress

"Okay, open your eyes."

Hermione looked up to see Pansy wearing a stunning lavender dress with black accents that swept almost to the floor. She bunched her hair nervously as she examined her reflection in the mirror. "What do you think?" Pansy asked.

Hermione bit her lip. "Er," she said, watching the velvety material swirl around Pansy's hips and trail into bunches on the floor. Pansy snapped her head around to stare at Hermione, eyes crinkling.

"What? What's wrong with it?"

"It's a bit much." Hermione confessed. "We're only having dinner."

"Only dinner?" Pansy asked, voice raising as she turned back to her wardrobe. "It's the first time I'm meeting your parents. I want a dress that matches." She smoothed her hands over the bodice, a frown tugging her features downward.

"I don't typically wear floor length purple ballgowns to dinner with my parents," Hermione pointed out, settling against the back of Pansy's bed.

"So you don't like it." Pansy yanked open the doors to her wardrobe harder than necessary, sorting through her clothes with rough hands. "Well, I'm not planning to just wear trousers and a a nerdy sweater every day like you do. We can't all run around like that, some of us have to actually make an effort." She turned away and slid her dress off, kicking it a few feet away once it had pooled around her ankles.

Hermione felt her hackles rise then. "I don't see why you're accusing me of dressing poorly," she stated icily, "When you're clearly upset about something else."

There were a few moments of resolute silence as Pansy glared at the pink fluffy dress she had worn to the yuleball hanging in her wardrobe. Finally she sighed and looked down. "Is the dress too much?" she began quietly. "Or am I too much for your parents?"

Oh.

Hermione fiddled nervously with her hands, unsure how to respond. "I'm not sure," she admitted. She had never brought a girl home to her parents before and she didn't know how they would react to that, Pansy's dress notwithstanding. "But if they put up with my nerdy craziness for sixteen years so far, I'm sure they'll love you for being too much."

Pansy gave an unladylike snort as she pulled a pretty yellow skirt out of her wardrobe, shaking her head. "I'm glad you finally admitted you're a nerd" she teased, hand sliding into Hermione's. Hermione scoffed. "How about this skirt?"

"I like it."

"Good, because I want you to wear it."

Hermione huffed. "Pansy!"


	8. An Evening Interrupted

A/N: Sorry these last two have been shorter than usual.

"Merlin, you're beautiful right now."

Hermione lowered her head slightly, giving into the blush but not really a blush she did whenever Pansy complimented her. She set her butterbeer down and licked away the slight froth on her upper lip. "Really?" she asked, somewhat snarkily. "And what exactly makes me more beautiful now than any other day?"

Instead of responding, Pansy leaned forward and kissed her. Hermione made a slightly surprised noise before surrendering to the kiss, teeth digging into her lower lip as she leaned forward. Pansy's hand traveled to her waist then the small of her back, moving from her mouth to neck. Her dark skin was unusually heated as Pansy pressed lips into jawline, leaving light nips down her side. Hermione let out a soft moan.

Pansy heard the faint sound of footsteps and tensed, grip tightening on Hermione's waist. Hermione whipped her head over her shoulder to stare at the entrance to the common room.

"I thought you said none of your roommates were staying for the holidays," Hermione whispered fervently.

"They told me they were!" Pansy replied indignantly. She released Hermione and crept to the doorway to peer out. To her relief, she didn't see anyone near the girl's dormitory. Unfortunately, a group of third year Slytherins had just come into the common room and had settled themselves near the emerald fire. Pansy retreated back to her bed to tell Hermione the news.

"Looks like we'll be stuck up here for a while," she commented, watching Hermione sweep her bottle of butterbeer into the bin.

"How long is a 'while?" Hermione protested, now wringing her hands nervously as she paced.

"I dunno," Pansy confessed, carefully closing the door to the common room.

"What if one of them comes up here?" Hermione asked, with more than a note of fear.

"They won't. Besides, it was a group of three boys, so if they try, the stairs will send them back down again."

Hermione visibly relaxed and let Pansy guide her back to the bed. "Well, that's a relief. I never thought I'd appreciate that particular design."

"I think the founders forgot to take into account a few exceptions when they made that rule." Pansy conceded. "Not that I'm complaining, of course." Hermione let out a tired snort.

"I suppose we'll have to wait until they go upstairs or leave." she mused, turning towards Pansy. Her skirt slid up her thighs as she shifted on the bed, leaning forward to kiss Pansy's neck. "Whatever shall we do while we wait?"


	9. Food Fight

Pansy's nails were dirty.

They were the last thing to clean after the disaster that had taken place during the annual Halloween feast. While she waited for Hermione in their typical meeting place, she got to work trying to pick them clean. She had barely finished with the thumb on her left hand when she heard Hermione's quiet footsteps padding towards her. Pansy looked up.

She had expected Hermione to be flushed, at least a little bit angry at what had occurred. Instead, she remained unnervingly calm, despite perhaps the slight tremor in her walk before she came to a stop about a meter away.

"Hello," said Pansy, somewhat cautiously.

"'Lo." Hermione replied. Her voice was hoarse. Pansy considered moving in to close the distance between them, but decided against it. There was something icy in the air between them, something she didn't dare try to disturb.

"Have you still got food in your-" began Pansy, but she was cut off by a sudden movement from the other girl. Hermione was glaring now, hands clenched into fists at her sides as she spat out a single word.

"Why."

"Why what?" Pansy asked. She was suddenly unable to make eye contact with Hermione, gaze shifting to her feet.

"Why did you do that to me. No-I've changed my mind. That's not my question. How. How could you do that to me?"

"You would do the same." Pansy murmured, barely audible.

"I wouldn't."

Pansy was silent.

"You teased me. You threw food at me. Merlin, Pansy, they called me a mudblood and you just sat there and laughed!" Hermione's voice cracked on the last word, and she lapsed into silence, cheeks now flushed. Her eyes were red but still brimming with hate. "I would never do the same to you."

"Hermione, I-"

"This isn't working."


End file.
